High Fidelity
by Psychopomposity
Summary: Steven Taylor makes drastic plans to escape the depressive isolation of his captivity on Mechanus.


"You know I think today is the day, HiFi."

Steven Taylor was matter-of-fact as he spoke. Not melancholy at all. He didn't look at the bear as he continued eating his reconstituted protein ration, carefully scraping the last drops of egg-white runny sludge from his disposable plate. He didn't particularly mind that the kitchen Mechanoid had mixed in too much milk powder today - it was a variation on the routine, and that was always somehow enjoyable.

Ceremoniously, he placed the plastic spork diagonally across the plate and set it by the door.

"I wonder if they'll make breakfast tomorrow or if they'll be smart enough to notice they're down a prisoner," he asked the small stuffed panda as he knelt down beside it. "They're pretty sophisticated, but I can never tell if any of them outside the zookeeper pays me much mind."

He sighed as he began to ascend the patchwork stairs he'd constructed, his fingers tracing over the four-hundred and sixty seven notches which now covered the entirety of the banister. Pausing, he turned back to the toy and picked it up.

"Care to see me off then, HiFi?"

He did his best to sound chipper. The little creature looked up at him with it's dull button eyes, but did not reply. Once they were roofside, Steven set it atop the fusebox, turned so that it could oversee him as he continued his routine.

The sky of Mechanus was bright pink, unperturbed by any trace of the gray-yellow clouds which had obfuscated it for the past rainy season. Steven took off his blazer, folded it neatly and began his morning press-ups as he had on over four-hundred occasions prior. In the sixty second breaks between the four sets of fifty, he continued his one-sided dialogue with the bear.

"I said I'd do it on a day like this, didn't I, HiFi? Bright and sunny and all that. Can't make a clear-headed decision on the matter if everything's dismal."

He finished his workout only slightly winded and wiped his brow.

"Barely breaking a sweat. If I was going to be here tomorrow I might start working toward two even hundreds."

He let his shoulder muscles go slack as he untied his shoes, removed them, retied them and placed them atop his blazer. Picking up HiFi, he moved to the edge of the roof, looking out over the gold-purple of the sunlit fungus glades as he wavered near the exact boundary between walkway and empty space.

"Everything's ready for my departure then, HiFi," his voice was at last beginning to crack despite his efforts. "It's been... it's been good to have you with me."

He looked down at the eternally smiling panda, readying himself to utter a final "goodbye" before he cast it aside and jumped. As it gazed back up at him, he noticed the faux fur piling around it's eyes had tamped down such that he could almost pretend they were sad.

Trembling, Steven imagined what would befall the tiny animal if he left it up here; open prey for rains and storms that would rot its little sawdust body away or cast it headlong into the muck below. He thought of the mechanoids finding it - clearing poor HiFi away with the breakfast plate and spork and taking him to the compound incinerator. It was stupid -utterly stupid- but the idea of his little companion lost or destroyed somehow left him more distraught then the prospect of his own broken body landing in the valley below. As often as he'd told himself he'd be stoic when a day like this came, he couldn't bear the thought of the one thing he'd had to keep him company being ruined - it's always welcoming thread-embroidered smile burnt away to ashes or eaten away by the elements.

He backed away from the walkway's edge and slumped into a ball, holding the doll close to his chest as he began to sob. He felt utterly idiotic - a grown man bawling like a wounded child because his suicide would be an imposition on a stuffed panda. But for all his idiocy he knew that there was nobody there to see him but HiFi, and HiFi didn't give a bloody damn.

"I'm sorry... This place has gotten to me... but... I'm... I'm sorry, HiFi."

He tried his best to smooth out the bunched fur around the bear's eyes. It didn't help greatly, but Steven didn't particularly care. He continued to hold it tenderly as he descended back to his room.

"I swear, HiFi. I'll never leave you behind like that," he whispered.


End file.
